


Dinner With The In-Law

by JLPierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Dining, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Confident Harry, Dinner, Flirting, In-Laws, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Meet the Family, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLPierre/pseuds/JLPierre
Summary: When Narcissa Malfoy invites herself round to finally have dinner with Draco and Harry, Draco had no idea what to expect.





	Dinner With The In-Law

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to Jade Presley for looking over and filling me with confidence to post. All mistakes are my own - because I just needed to post before I continued to hate on it.  
> Written to challenge the muse, and the muse delivered Drarry.
> 
> I haven't really written Drarry - except in email form - so keep that in mind [hides incase I've car crashed].

* * *

 

Draco raised his brow at Harry's _impeccable_ timing. It had been thirty seconds after 7 o'clock, and at the drill of his mother's nails into the table, Harry whirled in across the floor. Although they had both said _on the dot_ repeatedly that morning _,_ Harry had always had a small issue with time management — something Draco groaned about daily.

At first, Draco had been able to see past it. The odd time it had actually benefited him, and others it had left Draco red faced, sweating and beyond fuming. Tonight, however, was a different scenario; tonight was the evening that Harry would be officially _welcomed_ into the family.

It didn't matter that they'd gotten married six months earlier. It hadn't made the slightest difference that their wedding had broken stereotypes, crowned the wedding of the year or that Draco had done nothing but talk of the doves, the suit and the cake for the previous six lunch time meals with his mother. Tonight was when they became officially married — in the eyes of his mother anyway.

With it being just _her_ , Draco had become increasingly tetchy when it came to the evening. Any mention of the dinner or even of his mother, his heart rate reached heights that couldn't be classed as healthy by any standard — Muggle or wizard.

The stress, Draco claimed, came from his mother's need for perfection, something Draco as of late had not been reaching — or so her raised eyebrows told him.

Narcissa Malfoy had once been a strong, forward thinking woman that Draco had grown up admiring more than anyone else, but it had all begun to change after the war. His mother had become delicate, even if she appeared the opposite, and it worsened when his father had passed away twelve months before Harry and himself had even set a date. Draco believed that his ' _coming out'_ had put the final nail in his father's already decreasing health. Narcissa had held her composure through the excruciatingly long funeral, but he had happened to come across her crying in the bathroom on the second floor. That was when it became apparent that he would have to go gently with her, especially when it came to his fiance.

Thankfully, the man that he had married didn't ask more questions than he needed too, and from the calmness in his body language, he didn't seem to be all that worried about having dinner with his new mother-in-law. Harry casually walked over to the kitchen island, glancing down at the steaming food and cocked his brow with an added curl in his smile. Draco, who knew exactly what that look was for, smiled unnaturally — almost terrifyingly, just to drive the point home.

"Good evening, _love_ ," he smirked.

He watched as Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving askew as his eyes became larger at the movement of his lens. Draco didn't need to use legilimency to know that Harry had hoped they wouldn't need to play _pretend_ ; Harry also wished that their argument last night was a bad dream. Neither of those things were going to come true, and Draco had a sweet taste in his mouth at the thought of it.

"Hello _dear_ ," Harry responded dryly.

Draco picked up his mother's plate, catching her watchful eye over his husband's shoulder. There was so much he wished to say: _be careful of her drinking, watch her for that dagger-look she does, do not mention my father._ Instead, he sighed and held the plate towards Harry, moving in close enough to whisper, "She's being a _bitch_."

"So," Harry whispered with a smirk as he took the plate, "her _usual_ self then?"

Gritting his teeth, Draco glared steel into the green, piercing it and cutting through any glee Harry could currently be experiencing. If Draco had been forced to deal with his erratic mother for a whole hour alone, Harry could suffer with him — although he knew the man had a point.

"Take that one to her, _Potter_."

His annoyance showing in his bitter laced words, however, it seemed to only bounce of Harry's skin. Draco resented how he could do that, and had to wonder if it was part of the Ministry training. He missed the old times occasionally, where he could make a snide remark and get under the Gryffindor's skin.

"Oh, we are doing it like _old times,_ " Harry responded with a glint in his eye. "I think I quite like this game, but if I don't survive, know that I love you," his tongue sticking out part way through, "and I don't like to be roasted, y'know, if Ms Malfoy wishes to devour me."

"Twat," Draco hissed as he nudged him forward, the two of them heading to their dining table just off the kitchen.

If someone had snapped a photo of them at that moment, it would be clear as day to see how uncomfortable both of them were. It was no lie that Narcissa had opted to save Harry or that she loved her son more than anyone; it was also not a secret that Narcissa had hoped Draco wedded someone wealthy — and a _Pureblood_.

While Harry was only one of those two things, the fact that he had a cock seemed to bother the matriarch more than the fact her son had wed below his stature. Hardly surprising, although not to anyone that knew Draco at Hogwarts.

The two seated in sync, Narcissa grimacing at the sight of her food as it was placed in front of her. Draco had noticed the expression, and while he hadn't prepared the meal _himself_ — he had been forced to stand in the kitchen and listen to the _great Granger_ on how to prepare it in future. He hadn't listened. Since Harry had purchased him a Muggle phone, he had been obsessed with a game called Snake — it took up most of his senses and brain power to play the game. However, with all of that aside, it bothered him that she had already turned her nose up at what had been put in front of her.

"So," his mother smiled fakely, "what is new?"

Draco groaned at her sickly innocent voice and wondered when his mother's fakeness had become so obvious. Years ago many wouldn't have even recognised her distaste or her snide remarks, he had to wonder whether she had gotten lazy or just cared so little to put up her usual mask for them this evening.

Sitting up straighter, Draco smiled just as wickedly. "Well. I got married, which you were in attendance for — even if you attempted a _Glamouring Charm_. Pot - _Harry_ here has been put forward to become Head Auror, and I am —"

"Head Auror, _hmm,_ " Narcissa interjected. There was something in her eyes that Draco spotted immediately. A look that reminded him so much of his father that it made a shiver travel down through his bones and the room go ice cold for a single second.

Lucius had passed away at home after spending time in Azkaban until the curse of the darkness began to kill him. While Draco and his mother had been pardoned after ruthless investigation, his father had to pay the price for years of devious behaviour. Draco wasn't all that sad to see him go, a weight being lifted from his shoulders, and a pressure vanishing he hadn't known he had. It had left his mother rather bitter, which had been expected, and her mind had become riddled with _improper_ etiquette and the need to immerse herself more into Draco's life. All in all, she had become nosy.

While Draco didn't mind dinner with his mother, this particular evening was evidence of her pusy nature. He had no idea what she hoped to find, but he worried it was in the hope of splitting him and Harry up, although she had attempted to avoid this meal like any other dinner with Harry — like she had been doing for the last four years.

"Yeah," Harry sighed with a smile, "it's an honour, _but_ , a bit flash for me."

Draco had to roll his eyes, even if he had married Harry it didn't mean that he couldn't be the same sarcastic shit he was when they began dating. "Because the title _Chosen One_ is _so_ humble." He felt emeralds slide over his skin, leaving patches of warmth that made Draco's cheeks burn. Slowly, he turned his head to the side and caught Harry's glare and the playful smirk that wished to rise. "The _Chosen_ _Head_ Auror."

Harry's tongue pushed into his cheek, and Draco could practically hear him screaming 'the _Head Auror_ who gets _Head'_ from here — even if that wasn't what he had been intending with his comment.

His mother, as usual, interrupted with a clear of her throat that sounded so much like Umbridge in their Fifth year it was spooky. "Is that how you hope to support my son, being a dangerous Auror?" Narcissa asked, her sweet tone gone from her words.

Draco took this moment to kick under the table, missing his mother's ankle and kicking the leg of the chair and sliding down his chair slightly.

"Now, now," Narcissa smiled deviously, "I'm reacquainting myself with your _husband."_

Tilting his chin down, digging his eyes just as forcefully at her as she was doing to him, Draco summoned his Slytherin side. "Correct me if I am wrong, mother, but I believe you got to know _Harry_ extremely well when he was saving your arse from prison, or, on the forest ground when you stopped him from being murdered by _your_ house guest."

"Well, we all know why that is now, _don't we_ ," she replied without missing a beat.

Harry took this moment to place a hand on Draco's thigh, his fingers spreading out over his trousers and Draco took a breath that allowed his rage to simmer slightly. He knew the meaning behind the hand, but with his mother in the room anything else was out of the window — especially filthy thoughts. His mother was like a dementor, sucking the happiness and _pleasure_ from having a hand on his thigh, even from an attractive male that was all his.

Draco wasn't allowed a second to snarl or add any more _salt_ to the meal because Harry cleared his throat in a similar fashion to his mother's.

"Mrs Malfoy," Harry said with a confidence that made Draco want to shred him from his uniform, "I love your son. That's it," Harry said, adding a shrug of his shoulders, "I work hard, I put up with his sarcasm, and I don't even care if you hate me. I've had enough hate to last a lifetime, it bounces off me, like a _killing curse._ " Draco closed his eyes in disbelief, slowly shaking his head and wondered if his husband would ever _not_ make a joke out of the past. "I have also had a really shit day at work, and I know I shouldn't swear in front of you because it's ' _improper,'_ " Harry's hand lifted to show the quotation marks, "but I care so little. Draco went to some effort today, and you can at least be kind to him."

Draco re-opened his eyes, firstly gazing at Harry who was watching him intently, before turning his face to meet his mother's. As expected, the mask of indifference — that one mastered by Purebloods before they could walk — was firmly in place. Part of Draco wanted her to kick off so he could tell her to go home, another didn't want her to feel alone — especially when she was still struggling to make amends with Aunt Andromeda.

"Well." Her throat clearing, "All I can say is…" Draco held his breath, waiting to hear how he was blasted from the tree and how, like generations before him, he had made a mistake. "... Welcome to the family… _Harry."_

Fingers gripped tighter on Draco's thigh as his own mouth dropped open. His mother, who had picked up her glass, sipped on it purposefully.

"Did you really think I'd be bitter towards my only son's happiness?" She asked, looking at Draco with a mix of enjoyment at his surprise and rather hurt also. "I mean, I don't especially enjoy that you're both… well, you know —"

Harry chuckled. "Gay?"

"Yes," Narcissa said, shuffling in her chair, " _that._ And the amount of times I heard _Harry Potter_ at my dining table should have been an indication I know, _but_ —"

" _Or_ the ten times I attempted to _come out_ to you," Draco muttered for only Harry to hear.

Narcissa not having noticed, continued, "I just want you to be happy, Draco. _Salazar_ , you've both been through far too much not to be."

"Firstly, that was a cruel test," he added bitterly, but then what she had said sunk in and Draco rolled his eyes, "secondly, I hardly think the two scenarios are the same, mother."

She downed the remainder of her Elf Wine, the red of it staining her lips. "Well, no, of course not. _Yours_ was much more difficult, Draco."

Draco's head moved forward at her words, his eyes widening in disbelief. She couldn't be real, there was no way on earth that she was stating that him being forced to murder was the same as being hunted down to be murdered.

Harry, who had gained a sense for tension from being around the Weasley's, stood up and dropped his hand from Draco's thigh and moved to shake Narcissa's hand. "I promise to do good by him."

"I am here you know, and quite capable of looking after myself," Draco added — not that anyone listened to him.

Narcissa, who was smiling sweetly, took Harry's hand and shook it. "Please do so. I hope the Gods give you strength with putting up with him." Draco looked around as he held his hands up, not sure if anyone could still see him, and he scoffed just in case. "Make sure you feed him regularly."

"Oh," Harry laughed, "I know. I made a mistake of missing lunch once, _never again._ "

The two of them bursting into a loud, comfortable chuckle that forced Draco to slouch further into his chair, his arms crossing as he felt his bottom lip push out. He listened for several minutes as they shared tips on _dealing_ with him, and he wondered what person he had pissed off to be dealt such a hand. The meal that Granger had slaved over was going cold by the second. Draco knew he could apply a Stasis Charm, but he didn't want to. They were _mocking him,_ so he wanted them to suffer, even if his only hand was forcing them to eat cold food.

It was only when the laughing became lighter, and more genuine did he notice that he was pouting over nothing. His mother, the stiff-upper-lip Pureblood was getting along with his husband. A man that had been the downfall of a cause she had stood by.

As he listened to the joy in both of their voices, and his eyes caught Harry sitting beside her and the two genuinely shimmering with happiness, his lip went back to normal. His arms slowly uncrossed and Draco sat up taller. He couldn't remember what he had been worried about, and he also couldn't believe how well Harry was doing.

The two looked pleased to be in one another's company, and while Narcissa had been partly to blame for them not doing this sooner — Draco knew he had a part to play in all of this.

It hadn't been easy telling his mother of his feelings; it had become more difficult when she asked how he knew that these were real — because explaining that you get _uncomfortable_ around a certain Auror who comes into St Mungo's is not an appropriate answer. Draco did remember hearing her cry the first, second and fourth time he had told her that he was gay. The third time she had got drunk, and he had escaped to Harry's place to avoid her.

The other times he hadn't stayed around to listen, having been in a real and, for the first time, healthy relationship with Harry. The tenth time was the day of his wedding; the last time he hoped he would need to have the conversation.

Draco realised that in fact it had been the last time, seeing that it had really sunk in for her now that she could see why he was so in love with the man beside her. While the dinner was going cold, his mother's heart was doing the opposite. Harry was muttering things Draco couldn't hear, but he assumed they were good from the proud smile on his mother's face. It irked him he didn't know, but he also didn't want to ruin a good thing — Draco had learned that mistake from his youth.

Eventually, he slipped from the table. Summoning the plates and setting down dessert with a wave of his wand, Draco disposed of the food the _Muggle_ way — the _Harry way._ Draco had been in his routine so much; he didn't notice a shadow until it spoke.

"I'm proud of you, Draco." He spun around, facing the crystal grey that was filled with warmth. The mix of blonde, grey and black hair that hung at her shoulders. "You did good, son."

Shocked was an understatement, but somehow he found the words to whisper a thank you. He could barely move as his mother made her reasons for leaving, her arms wrapping around him in an embrace that took him back to his childhood. He stood there for several minutes _after_ the Floo had erupted in green — and Harry had closed it for the night.

Harry rested his elbows on the kitchen island, standing in the same position he had three hours ago when he had arrived home from work. "I think you'll get more than _coal_ this year for Christmas."

"What?" Draco asked in confusion, his brows knitted low.

Harry rolled his eyes, a look that wasn't as becoming on him as Draco imagined was on him. "Doesn't matter. How did it go today?"

Draco smiled as he placed the plate, that was still in his hands from washing up, down on the counter. "I received the funding for Mental Health." He smiled knowingly because the anonymous benefactor was stood clearly in front of him. "Hopefully we can limit identity crisis, depression and magical anomalies in more people."

He watched as Harry pulled a grape from the fruit bowl, "Makes my life easier without explosive magic erupting from stressed out people."

"Or people who have had _difficult_ conversations with their mother," Draco smirked.

"Exactly," Harry said as he popped the grape into his mouth, "although, I was rather glad to see you in my place of work." Draco raised his brow beckoning. "It allowed me to have some _fantasies_ of my own."

Draco licked his lips before feigning disinterest. "You, Auror Potter, are a disgrace."

"You _love_ it."

"Ugh. Unfortunately," Draco replied, moving to where Harry stood and pressed his lips delicately to his. Sealing the evening with a kiss, just like he had done the night in the interrogation room when Harry demanded to know why a shop window had shattered.

A kiss that mirrored the beginning of them, and now the beginning of their next chapter. Irony and fate were having a laugh at the two former enemies, sniggering that the two of them hadn't known the importance of the other earlier. At least they figured it out now, and the sentiment forced Draco to smile lightly into Harry's lips, just as a hand met his waist, and fingernails began to dip into his hip bone.

"Dessert?" Draco smirked, taking Harry's hand to lead him to their bedroom.

"I think I'll have it here," Harry smiled, spinning Draco so his back met the edge of the counter, their lips meeting once more and fingers began to make work of their clothes.

* * *

 

**xXx**


End file.
